


untitled

by xsunny



Category: Joyeux Noël | Merry Christmas (2005)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Post-Canon, World War I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26487421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xsunny/pseuds/xsunny
Summary: The beginning of the end.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	untitled

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fan made fiction based on a movie with characters and plot loosely based on something from real life. In no way this is intended to depict facts as they were, or disrespect any country.
> 
> If any of the tags or subjects may trigger you, or make you feel uncomfortable, please be safe and don't read this story.

**After the Blessed Night**

Karl Horstmayer, Camille René Audebert and Gordon Mackenzie were very different men circumstance brought together and made unusual allies of. 

After the brief Christmas truce in 1914, each of them went on their own separate ways throughout Europe, Western and Eastern fronts. The lieutenants and their men were mostly set apart, too, in an attempt of each country’s higher ups to erase what happened and prevent any further insubordination. For all it mattered, the fraternization never happened.

So, as the war progressed, the three lieutenants carried on. They followed their orders and fought on horrific battlefields, lucky to be alive when others haven't survived. But even in their worst moments, hurt, hungry, exhausted and cold, they carried with them a spark of hope born from that distant Christmas night. 

Each of them survived on their own way. 

**Camille Audebert**

Days passed, weeks, months. Eventually, almost four years passed by in uncountable battles and casualties. The suffering seemed to never end. The time he spent on the trenches became a routine only broken by the rare times they were on leave, usually in some village destroyed by bombardments and lacking _espérance_. 

The camaraderie with his men was there, always present, and helped prevent Camille from going insane - that, and the constant reminder he should survive the horror to meet his son and his wife again. Henri would soon be four years old, and he dared to hope this would be his last birthday without him being present. 

After one more victorious incursion on French soil, Camille caught himself thinking how glad he was that he could reunite again in his Company, in the last four years, many of those present on that blessed Christmas night. 

Walking on the trenches that night, he let his mind wander, thinking, not for the first time that day, how he'd enjoy meeting the German lieutenant enemy turned ally for tea at his home, in Rue Vavin. His Scottish friend would also be there, and most certainly would add a dash of whisky to the tea. 

**Karl Horstmayer**

Karl had seen better days. His country was systematically losing battles, the casualties piling up. They were facing their enemies with a consistent lack of ammunition and provisions for months. 

His Company, known for fighting bravely, was slowly descending into hunger, exhaustion… desperation. He wished he could do more for his men, that he could ensure all of them could safely go home.

Polishing his Iron Cross with his sleeve was a habit he developed lately, trying to remember why he was still in combat when all seemed so absurd. He still thought about his enemies turned into something else that Christmas night. He still wished they were alive and well.

It had been too long since he could be with his wife, and the exhaustion and suffering, together with losing people he considered friends fighting by his side, was steadily making him consider giving up, only duty and honor preventing him so far from simply letting go. 

**Gordon Mackenzie**

Gordon Mackenzie was a simple man of simple tastes. Drinking, battling and spending nights at the local brothels made him a happy camper. Or so he tried to convince himself, hiding what he truly felt under layers of irony and humor. He knew he wasn't the same anymore.

As the time passed, and the horrors he witnessed accumulated, all Gordon hoped for was going home and settling down. If Father Palmer was the one celebrating his Wedding to a nice Scottish lady, even better. 

He knew the war was not going to take long to be over now, the German soldiers his Company encountered under equipped, many lacking a good plate of food and warm clothes on their backs. It was really sad seeing them reaching their limit, but, on the other hand, it meant it was probably going to be over soon. Maybe before Christmas, this time for real.

He thought about his unusual days with the French and German chaps from time to time, making a toast to them every other night when there were good spirits available. He remembered the hope they shared, the consequences of their fraternization not enough to bury what they had in that Blessed Night. Luckily, it'd be over soon, and all of them would be alive and well.

**Author's Note:**

> Something I've written a long time ago and wanted to share in a special date.


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